


Doll

by Redox



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Consent Issues, Crossdressing, F/M, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I'll tag other characters when I write chapters more focused on them., M/M, More like I just want to ship Tony with everyone without any drama, Open Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-10 21:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7009348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redox/pseuds/Redox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony enjoys getting dolled-up and played with. </p>
<p>(This is a sorry excuse to ship Tony with everyone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mother Father

When Tony was a boy, he used to love watching his mother get all dolled up for her events. Her makeup was always perfect, her dresses and jewelry were beautiful, and her shoes- those were Tony's favorite part of her outfit. Always. Mother had so many and they were all so stylish.

The first time he tried to dress up, he was about 7. The dress was ridiculously big, he colored his face hilariously with his mother's expensive makeup, and slipped his tiny feet into a pair of some strappy, black heels. His mother always locked up her jewelry so there was no playing with those, but he thought he looked fine without them as he posed in the full body mirror.

Jarvis found him soon after and Tony asked his caretaker if he looked pretty like his mommy did. Jarvis scooped him up, brought him into the bathroom and cleaned him up and got him dressed in his own clothes, "You can't do that, Anthony. You can't play with things like that... if your father found you..."

He seemed so worried and Tony didn't understand. Jarvis was always supportive of him, he wanted Jarvis to think he was pretty. And why would his daddy care? His daddy never cared about what he did. Still, Jarvis put away the shoes and the dress and cleaned up the mess Tony made with the makeup. He held Tony's hands in his and tells him sternly that Tony can't do that ever again and Tony promised he wouldn't.

He kept that promise... for several years anyways. Until one day around Christmas when he was 12. His parents were throwing a huge party to celebrate the holidays, and Tony got to mess around while they were busy. As long as the boy stayed out of their way, they didn't care. He headed straight for his parents' room.

Maria's closet was huge and she had impeccable taste, as always. Tony walked into the closet carefully, making sure not to disturb too much, everything was so neatly in place and orderly it'd be a shame to mess it up. He picked out one dress to put on-- a red one, for Christmas-- and a pair of simple red stilettos to match. Now that he was taller the dress fit much better this time, the straps didn't slip off his shoulders so easily if he was careful- and he was.

Sitting at the vanity table was exciting, the three mirrors reflected his smile as he carefully set out the makeup. He wouldn't make a mess this time. He knew better this time. He carefully watched his mother get ready earlier in the day, memorized the order and placements of the different creams and powders- moisturizer, concealer, base- those were the boring bits, but Tony carefully copied his mother's example.

The colors were the fun part! The creamy pink blush Mother used was so pretty and he enjoyed rubbing the color on his face. The eyes were a lot harder, the shadow didn't look as smokey as when she did it and he poked himself once in the eye with the liner, but it was still fun. Now the best part! The lipstick. There was a huge selection lined up neatly in a holder. Some his mother never even wore, she just liked to collect any color and shade she could find. There was even a bright green and while that was festive with red, even he had the sense not to use it. Instead he chooses a color similar to the dress he wore- a bright red! Women always looked pretty with red lips. Mother certainly did, Aunty Peggy, too. Twirling the tube and bringing it to his lips, he carefully put a little x at the bow of his top lip just like his mother did, he didn't get it, but she'd know best.

He was half done with his bottom lip when he hears his name.

His father came to look for him. Tony never found out why, but he did find out- the hard way, of course- why Jarvis told him not to do this again. It wasn't pretty, Tony wasn'y sure if the smack or the words hurt worse. After that day, Tony wasn't allowed anywhere near that room and Howard put a lock on the door.

The next time Tony dressed up was the day after his parents funeral.


	2. HIGH ROAD

It's no surprise that the first person he ever tells about his little habit, is Rhodey. He's known the man for years, Rhodey has stuck by him through so much bullshit, of course he's the first. It has been a few years after his parents and Jarvis died, Tony had been too scared to lose his best friend to something like this. He'd even give it up if Rhodey told him to choose.  
After downing a couple shots of liquid courage, Tony gets dressed up. A long, sleeveless, black dress with a slit on the left that goes far up his thigh, revealing his black, thigh-high stockings. Black 3" stilettos, too. All black, like he's going to a funeral-- maybe his own, hell, at least he'll go out looking fucking fabulous. His makeup is flawless.

Another couple sips from the bottle and he lays back on his bed and stares up at his ceiling, arms spread wide on either side of him, waiting for his friend to come up. The few minutes it takes Rhodey to walk into his room feel like an eternity. Tony thinks of Howard's reaction and what Rhodey's reaction would be. As long as Rhodey doesn't hate him, it will be ok, he can take a punch or two.

There's a knock and- "Hey, Tone, what do you need?" His friend's beautiful, soothing voice comes from just outside his room before the handle is turned. At some point, Tony wanted to pose provocatively, just as a joke, but his arms feel like they're lead when the doors open, lungs feel like they're constricted. It's impossible to move, so he just continues to stare at the plain, white ceiling and tries to breathe.

"Tone?" Rhodey asks again, stepping further into the room, closer to his bed. Close enough to see. "Tony where a-"

There it is.

Rhodey's choked off sentence telling Tony the other man has finally seen him. It's getting even harder to breathe, but Tony lifts up to look at his friend. And it's no surprise, the wide-eyed disbelief on his friend's face as he takes Tony's outfit in. 

"You look good."

"You don't need to be a dick about it."

"The makeup is a bit--"

"Everyone's a critic."

They stare at each other, the both of them keeping their expressions unreadable. Quietly Rhodey takes the few more steps to stand directly in front of Tony, getting a better look at his dolled-up friend. "I've never seen this side of you before..." 

Yeah, Rhodey's seen more of Tony's 'sides' than anyone else in the world, but this-- "Uh-huh. And what do you think?" The genius finally finds the strength to lift himself up at the waist to sit on the bed, leaning back against his arms. A lot of his tension dissolves when he sees Rhodey's eyes dart quickly up to his face from where they'd been making they're way down his body. "See something you like, Jujube?" He says, letting a cheeky smirk split his face.

"I already told you that you look good..." Rhodey responds sounding uncharacteristically nervous, but he slowly (shyly?) lets his eyes continue to roam.

"Except the makeup?"

Rhodey huffs and shrugs, tries for some kind of smile, "It's the eyes mostly..." Tony raises an eyebrow for him to continue, which he does, "It's too much, you're eyes already look... good without it." Then he just rubs at his face in irritation, clearly frustrated with himself and more than a little embarrassed.

Tony takes it upon himself to scoot over to the edge of the bed-- if his dress rides up his legs, well, it just can't be helped- and lets his nylon-clad legs fall on the outside of his friends', if anyone came in, even if Tony wasn't dressed the way he was, they'd still have some explaining to do. That's how close they are, with Rhodey almost between is thighs.

It's a valiant effort for Rhodes to try not to look so effected, but he looks down and Tony can see it in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate, he's even sweating a little. Tony thought he was the only one that was going to be telling secrets, "You got something you wanna say, James?" Tony looks up at him through thick eyelashes, whispering the words to get the other man to lean down to have to listen-

\--or lean down to kiss him. 

Well, he didn't expect Rhodey to give in that easy. Wuss. "You never told me you were interested in guys, Jimmy." Tony chuckles as he's pushed back down onto the bed, and then gasps as a large, warm hand slides up his leg, feelings the delicate fabric of his stockings.  
"You never asked." Comes the response, between sweet kisses, "Not once." Another kiss. "I would have told you." This one is longer and more desperate, it leaves them both breathless. "Jesus, Tony." Somehow, Rhodey manages to slide him back up the bed far enough that they're both comfortably laying down, his body being pressed down by the larger man. "You look so damn good right now."

It certainly wasn't the first time Tony had had sex before, not even with a man, but it was his first time with someone he actually gave a fuck about and the first time he'd done it in a dress, heels, and makeup. Which Rhodey completely destroyed in his haste. Tony wasn't even mad when he felt down his legs and fingered all the little tears in his stockings or about the rip in the slit of his dress, he just rolls over on his side, presses up against his best friend and kisses the man's neck, leaving what was left of his lipstick smudged on his pretty, dark skin.


	3. STAINED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Obadiah Stane being creepy.

A few years later, Obie catches him.

Sitting in front of a mirror, lips half done, in just a black pencil skirt and an undone blouse, revealing a deep red, lace bra. Tony gets up so quickly the chair he was sitting on smashes to the ground. With one hand, one smudged with lipstick, he pulls his blouse together in a vain hope that the older man didn't see what was under it. Not that it'd matter if he did- there's no hiding the skirt or the lipstick...

All the memories of his father catching him come to mind, so Tony braces himself for the impact of a slap or a punch, squeezing his eyes shut, gripping the silky fabric of his shirt, but instead he just hears, "Oh, Tony."

It's not an angry voice, it's not even pitying... it's more breathless, awed. Hands are on his face, a thumb wiping around his lips- the smudges he must have left in his panic. "Tony, Tony, Tony, you don't have to hide from me." Obie says gently, running his clean hand through Tony's dark hair.

"I- I can... I can explain." Tony whispers, opening his eyes, but not looking at his friend.  
"You don't have to. I already knew about this, Tony. Your father told me-" Tony cringes away, but Obie adjusts his hands to hold the younger man's face more securely. "He told me. He told me what he did- he was drunk... Howard was always so cruel to you, Tony. I saw you after he died, too."

Tony pulls away at that. He won't let himself cry though, he's made of tougher material than that. He's made of iron. "I can stop..." His voice cracks. How embarrassing, yet Obie doesn't seem to care.

"Finish."

The older man picks up the downed chair, setting it neatly back in front of the mirror, watching Tony watching him through the reflection, he nods down at the seat. Obie pushes him in. It's a quiet command that Tony obeys without question. Licking his lips, the genius picks up his little golden tube of red lipstick and brings it to his mouth, looking up at Obie for confirmation before lining his lips.

As he works, Obie leans over him, one hand resting on the backrest of the chair near Tony's left shoulder, while leaning into the right side to pick up little tubes and compacts, placing neatly in a row. Another silent command. He wants to see the whole thing.  
"I haven't shaved..." Tony murmurs.

"That's ok, do what you can." Obie whispers in his ear, his face so close Tony can feel his breath cooling against his skin.

With a thick swallow, Tony continues on his routine. It's not his best, it couldn't be with his hands shaking so bad and being distracted by the unreadable expression on the older man's face through the mirror. 

When he manages to finish, Tony avoids eye contact with his friend, instead staring down at his color smudged fingers. Definitely made a mess of things.

"Now don't you look pretty." Obie says, his tone sweet, yet Tony can't tell if he's being mocked and humiliated or... if Obie means it. The older man's left hand lifts off the back of the chair, to Tony's face, slipping his fingers under the brunette's jaw, lifting it. "It's not like you to be so shy, Tony." His face is still so close.

He's not being mocked. 

He's not being mocked. 

Tony hopes at least, he turns his head to look at Obie- still so close. It was never meant to be an invitation, but the older man closes the short distance between them. While his experience with Rhodey had been the most pleasant of surprises, Obie's lips against his felt... wrong, but he says nothing, Obie doesn't seem to notice the wrongness, he doesn't stop-

"Dad, he-"

"I'm not your father, Tony." Obie mumbles against red stained lips. It hurts to hear it, because Obie's always been a father to him when Howard refused to be- which was always.  
Big hands slide up his sides, under his shirt, up his back to the fastener of the bra. "May I?" He asks, thick fingers resting at the clasps.  
Tony just nods quietly.

Obie doesn't remove the bra or the blouse, just lets his hands roam under the loosened material until he reaches Tony's firm chest to rub the pads of his thumbs against his nipples. It's so wrong. It's so terribly wrong, but Tony keeps mostly quiet. Just bites back whimpers and moans as Obie toys with him.

It's so wrong.


	4. RED HOT

His lovely Pepper is next, after they first start tentatively dating. 

He's completely wasted on the comfortable, plush chair in his entertainment room. She wasn't supposed to be there. He was drowning whatever he needed to drown and she was supposed to be... he couldn't remember? She sighs when she walks in, probably smelling him before he sees her.

But he's a good drunk, if there is such a thing. He's friendly and happy and wants to cuddle and she rolls her eyes and squeezes up next to him and he crawls in her lap, nuzzling his face to the soft skin of her neck. 

She smells so good and the hum of her voice is soothing, but he doesn't quite hear what she's saying. Probably something like, "Yeah, yeah, Tony. Enjoy this while you can because once you're sober I'm going to chew you out." or something like that.  
So he basks in her warmth while he has the chance, squirms happily when she wraps her arms around him. The silky feeling of the shirt on his cheek brings his eyes to the red fabric and he scoffs.

"You shouldn't wear red... red ain't your color, babe." He mumbles into her collar bone and she snorts in response. It's like she doesn't think he knows what he's talking about. "'M' serious... you're sooo good in blue, though. Gorgeous..."

"Oh, yeah?" She challenges, good naturedly, squeezing his middle to make him snuggle in closer and hum.

"Mhmm. Red is my color." 

"Yeah, I'm so sure you'd look great in my red dresses. I'd pay to see it!" She laughs and rubs his back.

Rude. He thinks, or maybe says it and rolls off her lap to stumble to his feet. "'Right! Bring it on... I'll-" He hiccups and makes her laugh again. The look on her face is nice, like she thinks he's adorable, but in that condescending way. It's cute when she wears it. "I'll... shower you! ...Show." He declares and stumbles away to the other room.

Pepper is amused and patient enough to wait. Crossing her legs and tapping her toe in anticipation of whatever her dumb, drunk boyfriend has planned. As drunk as he is, she wonders if he would even know where his closet was... let alone actually finding something red to put on.

She never expects what she sees when he stumbles out, catching himself on the wall when he trips on the carpet in his black and red pumps. Her eyes widen at the brick red dress he's wearing. One strap over his right shoulder, and high slit up his left thigh... it looks perfectly fit to his body, so she doesn't bother asking if it was for her.

After all he already said red wasn't her color.

"See?" He says and gestures loosely to his body. The gold bracelets jingle softly on his wrist. "I couldn't... do the makeup, 'cuz 'm drunk."

Pepper nods instead of trying to speak, she doesn't know what she could say. He almost trips again on the couple stairs down to get back to her. Considering the heels are about 5 inches and he's fall-down drunk... it's impressive, he only trips twice before he takes his seat back in her lap. 

"Tony..."

"Hm?"

"You're wearing a dress..."

"Mhmm. I like dresses, Pep."

"Oh."

"Do I look nice?"

"You look gorgeous."

He sighs, content, and nuzzles against her neck again, his stubble and trademark beard make her skin tingle and flush. When Pepper laughs, just a little huff of uncontrollable mirth, he looks up. He looks so hurt, she just has to kiss him. Just a peck on his lips to make the man smile. "You were right, Tony." She smiles, "Red is your color. It looks so good with your skin tone... and your dark hair." 

He practically purrs when she runs her thin fingers down his scalp, he presses kisses against her neck, licks and nibbles the skin that he's able to reach. It feels nice of course, and maybe if he wasn't completely drunk Pepper would have been all over him-

But he probably would have never come out in the dress if he wasn't drunk. What a shame that would have been. 

"Come on, Tony, let's get you to bed." Pepper tells him, patting his hip to get him up. The smooth, red fabric of the dress is lovely and shimmers under the dim lights of the room.  
"Can' wait to get me to bed now, hmm?" Tony chuckles. He's leaning heavily on the redhead, making things more difficult- but that was Tony for you. A complicated mess, but worth the trouble, even when he's like this.

"Bed to sleep, Mr. Stark." She chuckles and drags him along, carefully. 

"Thas what they all say." He slurs and giggles. 

It's just a joke. A drunk joke, but the implications of it make Pepper feel cold and angry. She bites her lip and continues her trek until she finally reaches his room, plops him down onto his huge bed. She smooths out the no-doubt ridiculously expensive dress and tucks him in, kisses his cheek and cuddles up next to him.

When Tony wakes up it doesn't take long for him to realize what he's wearing, panic, and need Pepper to assure him she likes it, that he shouldn't be ashamed. No matter her words though, he flushes and changes, but doesn't leave and lock himself in his lab or grab a drink. Instead he curls back up next to her in bed, his eyes squeezed shut, face tinged a pretty shade of pink.

That's good enough for Pepper for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wrote these long before CW. Kind of sad about Pepperony now.


	5. PATCHES

In 4 inch black heels, Tony checks himself out wearing nothing but under garments- the vertical red and black stripes of his sheer stockings held up neatly by a lace garter belt, a decorative garter on his left thigh. Black panties that tie at the sides into little bows mostly covered by the ruffled skirts of the corset JARVIS had picked out- red silk covered in little black lace patterns with some of the black ruffles lining the top.

The only trouble with this lovely ensemble is the corset tied in the back. The little black ribbon was a pain to tighten to his liking by himself. Unfortunately, Rhodey wasn't around, and asking Pepper so soon after they split would be too upsetting for him- though they broke up amicably, it still hurt a little. While his fellow Avengers might be able to do the job, Tony hasn't yet build up the courage to share this side of himself to them, afraid to lose the little ragtag group he's beginning to think of as family. The workshop bots were an accident waiting to happen and JARVIS didn't have the extensions for the job.

He sighs and tries tugging at the ribbon to no avail. Even if he by some miracle, tightened it correctly, there would be no way in hell to tie it.

=Sir, I really hate to interrupt, but Director Fury has entered the building and is making his way to the communal floor... he's not willing to tell me why he's here.=

Tony grunts, "God damn it." He huffs and kicks off his shoes. Well, he certainly wasn't undoing all the hard work he put into this, and just slips on a pair of oversized sweatpants that cover his feet and fits over his skirts nicely, throwing on an outrageously orange hoodie he'd stolen from Happy to finish the job. At least he didn't have any makeup to wipe off.

JARVIS, hilarious as he is, actually plays legitimate elevator music as Tony enters the lift, making the man roll his eyes. "You're the absolute worst friend." The AI only chuckles and Tony's spirits are slightly lifted despite himself.

When he gets to the room Fury is in, he plays up his decent mood to annoy the older man, it's a habit. "Hey, Little Nicky, what brings you here?" He chirps and strolls past him to plop down onto a comfortable, leather recliner. 

"Just here to see Romanov, no reason to trouble yourself coming all the way down to see me, Stark. Wouldn't want you to strain yourself." He snarks back.

Usually Tony would have taken that as a challenge, but he really must be in a good mood- he grins nice and wide. "Always nice to see you, Nicky."

Fury 'mhmm's' very sarcastically just as Natasha strolls in looking slightly confused by Tony's presence, but ignores him in favor of her old boss.

Tony makes a show of looking surprised, "Ooh, super secret spy shenanigans?" he gasps, touching a hand to his chest dramatically, "Should I go?"

Both spies side eye him, they don't even have to look at each other when he hands her a plain manila envelope. "It's fine Stark. We're done here." Fury says, then eyes the red head some super secret message that Tony couldn't even begin to decipher- it reminded him of the silent language he and Rhodey share- before Natasha sweeps out just as quietly as she came.

"Something you need, Stark?" Fury says when he notices the brunette staring at him, not that he stops to wait for an answer, just turns and walks towards the elevator.

Tony has to hop up and rush to follow. The door wouldn't close on him, no matter how hard Fury pushes the damn button. "Actually I do, Patches!" The door closes with both of them in the lift and Fury presses the button- how cute. "You know you can tell JARVIS where you want to go. You'd go faster. He likes being helpful."

Fury grunts in response. "Well, what do you need? I don't have all day."

It's a risk, what he does next, turning his back to the bigger man and sliding the zipper down his ugly orange hoodie. But Fury's not exactly someone he's afraid to lose. "You see, I got this little problem, and I think you're just the man for the job. It'll only take a moment of your precious time, Director." He purrs.

He drops the sweater slowly down his bare shoulders, until he hears an almost held back inhale and then drops the heavy garment, revealing his undone corset. Fury is dead silent, which makes the smaller man a little nervous- so Tony does what he does when he's nervous, "I just can't get this gosh darn thing laced properly!" He jokes lightheartedly, snickering a little to ease his anxiety. With a little wiggle of his shoulders he asks, "Think you can help a lady out?"

The metal walls only reflect back a blur of colors, so he knows Fury hasn't turned away from him, but he can't read the man's face. Tony startles quite noticeably when fingers land gently on his back, right above the laces.

"I always wondered about your curvy body, Stark." Fury breathes out, like he was holding his breath.

"Oh yeah? Well-" Tony chuckles, "I don't do this all the time, you know. Guess it's just me."  
Fingers work the little ribbon, straightening out twisted parts and tightening as Fury works his way up. It's all strangely gentle. 

"Didn't know you had such a soft touch, Nick-Knack..." There's a tug at the ribbon, not hard enough to damage it, just enough to let Tony know Fury was opposing him. There's no need for the slight agitation though- "I'd have come to you sooner." Tony whispers.

"What's your game Stark?" Fury says once he's done, sliding his fingers down the little X's of the ribbon, Tony spins around with a cheeky smirk, eyeing the other man carefully- there's definitely some heat behind that gaze. Fury hasn't even questioned the elevator's speed.  
Without a second thought, he shimmies out of his sweats to show off the rest of his sort-of outfit. The way Fury's eye rakes down his body is most promising. "What kind of games do you like?"

Fury doesn't answer. The doors open to Tony's penthouse and Fury doesn't question it, just follows the man wherever- wherever ending up being a huge bedroom. 

"Hold on, Boss, I got to finish." Tony says and leaves the taller man in the main room while he minces away into the walk-in closet, whispering to JARVIS to pick him out the perfect pair of heels- smartass suggests a few pairs with equal enthusiasm.

Tony sighs and glares up at a camera, grabbing a velvety pair of heels with a simple strap and checks himself out again. They look nice, but- =Perhaps you should ask the Director for his opinion?=

"Ah, now I see what you're playing at..." Jarvis always did enjoy Tony's showing off in one way or another.

Fury's sitting on the bed looking just a bit uncomfortable when Tony comes out. The genius saunters forward, exaggerating the sway of his hips just a little, then spins once to show off the entire thing. "So?" 

With a subtle (but not subtle enough) lick of his lips, Fury nods approvingly, Tony doesn't wait for him to speak, just rushes back to change his shoes.

Strappy stiletto sandals, open toe heels, black pumps with a red sole... until Fury gets impatient- tragically when Tony's wearing boring pointed heels- and stalks over, looms over, lets his hands almost touch, but he hesitates.

"Almost done, big boy, then I'm all yours."

"Stark." The growl was probably supposed to sound like a threat- but it came out more like a frustrated plea. 

Tony smiles sweetly and walks backward into his closet one final time.   
He hastily reaches his vanity mirror, his hands only shake a little as he applies his lipstick, eyeliner, eye shadow- not too much. He remembers Rhodey's opinion about it. Rhodey's always had such great taste! "How do I look, J?"

=Beautiful, sir.= 

When he steps out again, Fury's _right_ there, fastens a little red collar with a golden tag that reads- 'PET'. Tony doesn't even have time to ask where the hell he even found that before he swept off his feet.


	6. BSOD

Clint has a troublesome habit of trying to bypass JARVIS' system. Hacking in, finding little ways to sneak by cameras and sensors. It wasn't always an easy job, most of the time JARVIS was too much for the archer. Even though Tony griped, the little tests to his system were actually helpful, allowing him to reinforce any of the AI's weak spots, so Clint doesn't bother listening to the protests.

It was just too much fun for him, even when JARVIS fought back- being gassed in the air vent was an experience- Clint had a feeling JARVIS enjoyed it as much as he did. Not that he'd ever admit it, the guy was worse than his creator sometimes. So stubborn and childish.

This night, Clint hugged the walls after looping some security footage around each camera long enough to pass by them, heat sensors were disabled when he walked by- a nifty little toy he "borrowed" from SHEILD. 

Todays mission was to get into Stark's room, undetected and scare the living shit out of the paranoid genius. Everything was planned perfectly. Stark had been awake for a few days, enough for Rhodes and Potts to get on him about sleeping so he was most certainly bullied into his room. Bruce wasn't in on Clint's schemes, but the glint in his eyes tells the blond he knew what he was up to when he asked Bruce if Tony had any experiments planned.

He didn't say anything though, God bless him.

Making it to Stark's door was the easy part. Getting into it without alerting JARVIS or Tony- that was another story. There was time limit after all, keeping the loops going for too long would make the AI suspicious- he got tased once for making JARVIS suspicious.

Just a little bit more and the doors open quietly, Clint slips in, quietly shutting the heavy door behind him just in time for the loops to end. 

Looking around the wide sitting area- coast was clear of people, now to distract JARVIS for a little bit in this section. Tip-toe carefully along tiles, quietly stealing a pudding cup from the kitchen, then across carpet until he gets to Stark's bedroom door.

He devours the disgusting sugar-free vanilla pudding in a couple bites and tucks the empty cup behind some gaudy statue for later proof. He has decided to sneak in, scare Stark, sneak out- giving himself a head start knowing the genius would seek revenge, he needed the proof!

Some more codes for this door- seriously, how paranoid could one guy be? And he's in. There's some whispers and harsh breathing and Clint thinks he's hit the jackpot, a two-for-one deal, with whatever sexy lady Stark was getting off with.

He crouches low, almost crawling to get some cover behind a comfortable chair, which was facing Stark's bed for some reason- that man had some strange kinks. Quickly, Clint peeks past the backrest to see if anyone has gotten suspicious, but the little mewls and whines continue.

Time to get closer.

There's a heavy curtain hanging down from the tall windows, and really it doesn't sound like the best hiding place, but other than that there's no cover in the dimly lit room. So behind the curtain he goes, slinking through to get closer, trying his best not to make the thick fabric move too much.

"JARVIS."

Clint freezes and bites his lip hard at Stark's wrecked voice calling to his AI.

"That's it..." The brunette sighs out, then there's a hum and a whimper.

Ok.

Color him intrigued. Clint, a little quicker than before searches for the part in the curtains and peeks out and-

Oh. _Ok._

Maybe Stark has a better reason than most to want to lock every door in his house.   
Never in a million years would Clint have believed he'd see the Tony Stark, dressed in thigh-highs and a little lacy camisole. Panties rolled down to his knees. They were delicate looking, in a soft, powder blue color and Clint can't tear his eyes away- good thing the brunette's eyes are clenched tight. Face flushed and pressed into his pillow. There's makeup smudged on his face... and there is certainly no sexy lady accompanying him. Just Tony freakin' Stark. Face down, ass up in ladies lingerie. The light of his reactor is mostly smothered under him, but when he moves it flashes a little, lighting up his belly and thighs... and yup. That's his dick.

Clint blinks away the image and hopes it doesn't haunt him. 

_It will._

Oh, boy... this was way more than he bargained for. 

Worst part was the noise the brunette his making, whimpers and mewls that have no business coming from a guy like Tony FUCKING Stark. Desperate and ... almost sweet. If it was anyone else... that happened to be female- No, the worst part ends up being JARVIS who, after Tony pleads with him, starts whispering down right filthy things to his creator. Chuckling darkly when the humming sound gets louder and Tony keens, grabbing the sheet by his head...

There's no way Clint is going to find out what the AI did. There's no way he's mentioning any of this. He almost stumbles back into the window in his haste to get out of the room. Sneaks back out just as swiftly as he snuck in, grabbed his squished pudding cup from behind the statue, and scampered back onto his own floor, hopefully not alerting JARVIS to his presence... the spy didn't really pay too much attention in his haste to get away.

The next morning Natasha hounds Clint about his awkward behavior and then Stark wanders in carelessly in baggy Batman pajama bottoms and a bright green A-shirt. They make eye contact. Natasha looks between the two, visibly confused when the realization crosses Stark's face as he sees the look Clint gives him, and he flushes deeply, scrambling away, while Clint shoves an entire waffle in his mouth, hoping it might choke him to death.


	7. BRIGHT GREEN

=Sir, Doctor Banner is asking if he could come in.=

"...Yeah, arlight."

It's been about 10 hours since Tony and Clint shared the most humiliating moment of his life. When Jarvis had said there was some sort of glitch in his system, Tony didn't think anything of it until he'd seen the archer's face. That was a face of a sneaky spy that spied too much.  
He'd definitely tell Romanov, she'd tell Steve, Steve would- Oh God. 

"Hey, Tony." Bruce says as he ambles in, eyebrow raised at Tony wrapped in a blanket in his computer chair. "You ok? Natasha said you seemed kind of upset and Clint won't tell me anything."

Tony tells him _everything_. It just spills out of his mouth, theres no stopping the ramble. Literally everything- backwards, starting with what happened with Clint all the way to the first time he dressed up when he was a boy. There's no falling asleep for Bruce during this over-sharing story. 

By the time he's done, all at once Tony feels like a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders and then slammed right back down with twice the weight- like the Hulk was stomping on him. Tony bites his lip and watches his friend carefully.

The other scientist is quiet. Really, disturbingly quiet. Tony thinks he should have kept his stupid mouth shut and when Bruce looks up, Tony flinches. It's enough to snap Bruce out of whatever he was feeling, softening his gaze at his friend and letting a little half smile tug at his lips.

It's comforting for Tony. "Sorry... to just unload on you like that, B."

"It's ok." Bruce mumbles, fidgeting with his hands nervously.

"Any thoughts?"

This time Bruce looks down and red stains his cheeks.

It really shouldn't be a surprise that a guy like Tony has a bunch of strange perverts for friends, but when Bruce looks back up, even his ears have taken on color when he asks, "Can... can you show me?"

Tony gets up quickly and leaves for another room of his lab, not thinking about how it would look to Bruce who stays stunned and embarrassed until Tony comes out with a bag and a smile. "Alright." He tosses the bag to his friend, "Pick a color... I don't have any of my clothes down here though."

The bag is filled with lipstick, of all different colors and shades. Bruce picks out a black tube and pops the cap to reveal a bright purple, puts the cap back and puts it on the desk. The next tube is dark blue, then a maroon, white, then a bright green- then he hesitates and Tony laughs.

"And they say I'm a narcissist." Tony chuckles and steps over to pluck it out of the other man's hands. Bruce sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as Tony spins the tube and brings the color to his lips.

Even without a mirror and even with his slightly shaky hands, it comes out perfect. Tony rubs his lips together and smacks them loud, startling Bruce a little as he watches in a daze, blush darkening.

Tony smirks, unsure of how the tables turned so quickly. "What now?" He asks quietly, standing patiently in front of the other man. Since Bruce is still sitting, when he wraps his arms around Tony, they settle right under Tony's ass, pulling him closer. Tony can feel the press of Bruce's glasses against his stomach, but doesn't complain, instead just scratches his fingers through Bruce's greying curls. 

If Bruce is still here, Tony supposes he wouldn't mind the scorn of the others.

"Tony?"

"Hm?"

"Can I... can I kiss you?"

"Mhmm."

Bruce slowly leans back, looking up at him- at his bright green smile- meeting half way into the kiss. The green lipstick is cheap Halloween costume makeup he bought because it reminded him of his mom, it smudges easily between the press, when Bruce pulls back, his mouth is stained. Tony chuckles at the dumb, adorable look on his face.

Hands scramble for the bag again, blindly Bruce grabs another tube and hands it to Tony. "What is your deal, Doc?" Tony chuckles as he accepts the offering without his usual complaint. A glossy tangerine. Once it's on Bruce pulls him down again for another wet kiss, coloring his mouth once again.

"I like it." Bruce mumbles against his lips and grabs for another tube. "Or maybe it's just you, Tony." He breathes and kisses Tony again before letting him go to put on a new color. Metallic silver.

Instead of bringing it to his own lips, Tony lines Bruce's lips with it. He doesn't look offended or bothered. The color looks silly on Bruce's mouth with the bright green and orange smudged around it. "I don't think silver is your color, Brucie." Tony smirks and leans down to kiss it off.

"I want-" Kiss. "Tony." Kiss and a chuckle. "Tony, I want-" Kiss. Bruce pulls away breathless and flushed, looking mussed and adorably frustrated. He licks his messy lips before he continues. "I want to see you..." He says. It's technically an unclear request, but it's not hard to guess what he means.

"You can see me just fine." Tony teases anyways and kisses his stubbled cheek, marking it with the silly colored lip print. 

Bruce gets up, hands still on the other man's body, lightly holding his hips. "I want-"

"I know. Come on." Tony grabs his hand and another tube of lipstick- the purple one. Once they're on the lift, he hands it to Bruce invitingly.

By the time the doors open on Tony's place, they've both lost their shirts and are covered in little smudges of mostly purple. It's a game from then on, marking each other with colors or bites, giggling as they strip. Tony only managed to get his stockings on when Bruce tackled him onto his bed like a fucking linebacker.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not much of a writer so excuse any mistakes. Got to start sometime, I guess.


End file.
